I Have Seen the Enemy and She is May
by theicemenace
Summary: A tag to the episode "Face My Enemy." Safe for all age groups.


**Agents of SHIELD**

**Tag to **_**Face My Enemy**_

**I Have Seen the Enemy and she is May**

"I won't go down easy," the May in the silver dress stated confidently, and with an edge of impulsiveness.

"That makes two of us," replied the real deal, while Coulson did his best to ignore the fact that _his_ May was now in her underclothes.

Hearing the impostor speaking in May's voice annoyed Coulson as much as it fascinated him. He was a guy, after all, and what guy didn't have the fantasy of identical twins fighting over him? Except they weren't fighting over the director of SHIELD. It was good guys versus bad where a large percentage of the world thought the good guys _were_ the bad guys as well as the bad guys being bad guys. Still, a man can dream, can't he?

Wincing internally when May cracked the knuckles of her right hand, he murmured, "I can't believe I'm the only one seeing this right now." Bakshi ran from the hotel suite, saw Coulson, and took off. To May, Coulson said, "He's got the painting. You good?"

Leveling a glare at the HYDRA agent, May curled her lip. "I'm good."

Without missing a step, Coulson stuck a recording device to the door of the suite as he ran after Bakshi. He reached the next corner as he heard the women engage. If the other woman had been on SHIELD's side, he might've felt sorry for her. May was going to kick her _ass_ and walk away at the end as if she'd been out for a leisurely stroll. He actually felt a strange sort of pity for all HYDRA agents because they chose the wrong side, and especially for Grant Ward. He'd been hand-picked for the team, and he'd betrayed every one of them. He'd done more than that to Fitz. Ward had nearly destroyed one of the finest minds Coulson had ever known. The young scientist had relied heavily on his partner, Gemma Simmons, before and after his bout with hypoxia. She had been his anchor. The one thing that kept him centered and on track. Then, she left. The good thing was Fitz was getting better. His progress was slow, yet steady, especially since Simmons returned.

Coulson's attention snapped back to the mission as he chased Bakshi down the hall. The man was running flat out and talking on a cell phone.

"…No. I need reinforcements _now_, and have an extraction team ready."

The HYDRA agent turned the corner. Coulson skidded to a stop at the corner, bringing his weapon up and firing all in one smooth motion. The barrel of the Taser glowed, and a moment later, the bad guy was on the ground. After checking that the other man wasn't faking, Coulson picked up the painting to examine the alien writing on the back.

A voice came from the cell phone Bakshi dropped. "_Mr. Bakshi, the team is two minutes out, sir. Sir? Do you copy?_"

Returning to the suite, Coulson was just in time to see the end of May's fight with herself. He retrieved the recording device and dropped it in his pocket. No matter what else was going on in his life, he deserved to break now and then, and watching the May vs May fight was a small indulgence he could afford. "We gotta go!"

Coulson followed May out the patio door to freedom just ahead of the HYDRA attack squad.

Inside the quinjet, Coulson made himself comfortable while May changed clothes. "So, what did she do? Fake me. How'd you know it wasn't me?"

May asked the question with little emotion, as if she were asking the time or if the leaves were green. Shrugging, Coulson matched her disinterest though with a touch more humor. "Little things. And she wanted to get coffee."

"Ah. Punch her in the face?" 

"Yeah." He didn't mistake the gleam of approval for his actions.

"Good."

The quinjet flew on for a few moments, both agents contemplative. He'd examined the alien writing on the back of the painting and was still no closer to understanding it than before. Now it was sitting propped in front of him where he could see it just in case inspiration struck. Coulson was stirred, though not in the way he wanted to be. Still, his ah-ha moment would benefit them all. "We should celebrate a successful conclusion to this mission. Break out the George Foreman, throw on a few steaks."

May's barely there smile widened a fraction, changing to ironic. "We can't afford steaks, Phil."

"Burgers and brats then. And some cheap wine or beer. We can pick it up on the way back. Make a list." Giving him an eye roll, she turned to look out the window. "We're having company in a few days so add Pop-Tarts to the list."

It could've been his imagination, but it looked like his companion sat up a little straighter. Coulson let the tiny crack in her façade go without comment. The rest of the trip back to base was taken in relative silence.

Hours later in his quarters, Coulson stared at his hand, and though he put every ounce of his considerable will power into it, he wasn't able to stop the tremor. Until now, he'd been able to hide it from his team, everyone but May. When their guests arrived, he'd have Banner check it out. Make it look like a private meeting between friends. Skye wouldn't be fooled, but he'd deal with it when the time came.

He kicked off his shoes and removed the cufflinks, dropping them in the top drawer of the dresser. Shedding the jacket, he hung it in the closet then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, returning to the bedroom dressed for bed. The recording of May's fight with the HYDRA agent that he retrieved before they made their escape had already been loaded onto his personal computer.

Propping pillows against the headboard, Coulson made himself comfortable on the bed, legs crossed at the ankle. To the air, he said, "Computer, mark the file 'May vs May' for my eyes only, and set an alert should anyone else try to access them."

The monitor on the wall glowed, acknowledging of the order.

_Order confirmed_

Grinning to himself, Coulson crossed his arms. "Initiate continuous playback."

_For how long?_

"Until I tell you to stop."

**The End**


End file.
